The Chimeras Trilogy, Part One: Ressurection
by GypsyReaper
Summary: Two years after X-Men: The Last Stand, Storm finds a hidden dossier that will change the world. Can she convince a mutant with powers more divine than genetic to help them in the battle against evil? And what chaos will reign when the "Chimeras" appear?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I generally don't do author notes, but I thought I'd give a little clarity to the story I'm trying to tell. This story is part of a trilogy, which begins 2 years after the events in The Last Stand, and is essentially a continuation. This fic is based solely on the three movies (I've been writing this story since high school, so I probably won't go back and try to include "First Class.") So please don't complain if this story doesn't fit the comics canon. And so, I hope you guys enjoy reading it as I do writing it! Thanks!

Chapter 1

The sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, only slightly dimming the light that lit up everything outside. Soon the sun, and the heat that came with it, would return in a vengeance. It was a day that was nice to look at from the comfort of an air-conditioned abode, the bright sunlight and colorful plant or animal life alive and vibrant and inviting. However, to step outside was to begin sweating and panting immediately, the air so humid that it seemed almost possible to drown by simply breathing.

Ororo Monroe sighed quietly as she looked out the window before turning back to the oak desk she sat at, boxes and papers scattered everywhere. She brushed a lock of white hair away from her beautifully shaped face, brown eyes saddened by her cleaning. This office hadn't been used in almost two years, as could be seen from the fine layer of dust on everything. The shelving of responsibility for the Academy and its students so suddenly on her had taken a while to get used to, and that was the excuse she gave others when they asked why it had taken almost two years to clear out the Professor's personal belongings.

However, that was her excuse. Truth be told, she didn't want to remove Xavier's belongings simply because doing so would really be the end. She knew that he was not coming back, that Jean and turned his old body into fine dust. Still, it seemed like such a final act, she had been dreading the task. But now, Ororo had no more excuses to offer, and decided to get this morbid task over with.

Charles Xavier had been a private man in his life but loved to teach. Being a mutant with the ability to read minds and sometimes even "control" a person made him a target of persecution from normal humans. To prevent future generations of children from having to suffer as he did, he started Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters. It belied itself as a private school for the gifted, but was actually a safe haven for all sorts of children with all sorts of powers, ranging from the mundane to the extreme. And then the war began.

It some ways, it was both a war and not a war. To describe in full detail the series of events, the coming of Rogue, of Logan, of Magneto's rise and fall to power, of the cure guns, of Colonel Stryker, of everything, would take several novels in itself. The thing that angered her the most was the fact that Professor Xavier had been killed-no, murdered-by his own student! Jean Grey had lost control of her powers (perhaps _given up _her control was the more accurate phrase) and destroyed him with her overwhelming telekinetic abilities.

She thought bitterly of the small graveyard in the courtyard, of the three graves there. The largest stone for the Professor, the smaller two representing Jean, who had finally been stopped during the mutant war, and her husband and first unintentional victim, Scott Summers. It was when she realized she had killed the man she loved that sent poor Jean over the edge, to give into the "Phoenix Force" that controlled her powers and to become an evil to all mutants and humans alike.

As Ororo gathered together the papers from one of the drawers, her mind fluttered onto the man that had ended Jean's life. Logan was still at the school, although he was now something of a teacher. He taught several self-defense and martial arts classes to the students. He seemed to be contented in this new life, and the last two years had been quiet ones for all students and teachers.

She shuffled the papers she had gathered into a pile; she would sort them out later. It still bothered her to have to look through the Professor's personal papers, but it had to be done; luckily, most of it of was financial papers. _Is it strange I feel so guilty? _she thought to herself as she stood and stretched. The room was hot, and sweat was beginning to make her hair and clothes cling to her skin. _It seems like any minute he's going to roll through the doorway and catch me like a child with a hand in the candy drawer. _

She noticed a discrepancy in a series of bank statements from his personal accounts, dating back almost three years. It seemed as though, once a month, a total of $5,000 would be withdrawn from his checking account. There was no I.D. explaining to who or what Xavier was paying out the money, which only served to peak Ororo's curiosity even further. Was it charity donations? No, no he would have recorded that, for taxes if nothing else. Blackmail, perhaps, by a jilted lover, or some sort of child support? Despite shuffling through the rest of his bank statements and other financial records, there was no mention of where the money was constantly disappearing too.

The woman was starting to get a headache, a combination of heat, stress, and a bit of guilt over having to pour through her old teacher's personal life. Allowing herself to rest for a moment, she laid her head down on the edge of the desk, and it was there that she saw an unopened drawer at the bottom of the desk. It was extremely small, only big enough to hold a few pieces of paper, and a very small keyhole was on the edge. She narrowed her eyes. "Speaking of drawers," she said to herself, bending down to get a better look at such a small drawer. The keyhole was smaller than her pinkie finger, and Ororo could not remember seeing a key that small anywhere on the desk._ Maybe it's unlocked? _she thought shrugging as she worked her thin fingers into the sides of the drawer (there was no handle on it) and tugged gently. Locked up tight.

Sitting back, Ororo couldn't help the curiosity that was now starting to worm its way through her mind. What could be so important, as deemed by Professor Xavier, to warrant being locked in a secret drawer? Secrets only led to trouble down the road, as he liked to say. What could it be?...

"Knock it off, Ro," she mumbled to herself. "You don't have any business poking and prodding." She pulled the chair up to desk, rifled through the pens in the cup on the desk until she found a black one, and started working on the loose ends of her student evaluations. Despite the lonesome air the office held, it also seemed to hold an air of wisdom, of sageness. It made Ororo sad, but it also made her want to get something done, too.

_No point in wasting the time to walk back to my office_, she thought. _Besides, I have to get used to the office, anyway, so I'll just stay here. _

For a while, the only sound heard was that of the pen scratching away on the papers. The formidable stack she had brought with her began to slowly decrease, as the ache in her hand and wrist increased in equal measure. With only five reports left, the pen finally died on her. Irritated, she shook it, and scribbled on a scrap paper, but to no avail. She dropped the pen and reached for another. She started writing, but no ink came out. This one was dead too.

So was the next one she tried.

And the next.

And the one after that.

"Argh!" she snapped, and smacked the cup off the desk. Pens and pencils went flying in all directions, but watching them scatter did not improve her mood. When the realization that she would have to pick up all the fallen writing utensils came to her, she held her head in her hands. It was not just the pens that were upsetting her, although they may have helped expedite the situation.

Ororo missed Professor Xavier. She missed his teachings and his infallible wisdom. He was like a father figure she never had, and the weight of both his death and the responsibility of having to run the school was well under way of unraveling her. Tears threatened to fall, but she refused to let them. Her eyesight blurred slightly, but after a moment of feeling pity for herself, Ororo straightened up, and wiped away the partial tears. She was not going to fall apart now because of a few dry pens.

A few deep breathes later, she felt much better. The momentary lapse of control only relieved her anxiety slightly, but little was better than none. Looking down on the desk, something interesting caught her eye.

On the desk was one of the pens, broken in half. She was beginning to wonder how the pen have gotten broken in the first place when she saw what was protruding out of one half. A key, no larger than her pinkie finger, silver and shining. It did not take a rocket scientist to realize what the key opened.

Ororo stayed on the edge of indecision for a moment, before reaching for the pen-key. She noticed her fingers trembling slightly as she did so. Grabbing the pen in a vice-grip, Ororo slipped out of the chair and kneeled in front of the drawer. She inserted the key into the lock-it slide in smooth as silk-and turned it quickly, the faster she worked the less time she would have to lose her nerve. The drawer popped open with an inaudible sigh.

The pen-key was dropped, forgotten already, as Ororo reached for the drawer. Pausing only for a moment to decide whether she should actually look inside the drawer, her indecision was finally quelled when she decided _If it was anything dangerous, Xavier would have told someone. It may be nothing but old family pictures. I actually wonder if whatever is in here holds the key to that disappearing money? Either way, who's it going to hurt if I look? _So why did it feel like her entire world was about to be turned upside-down?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nestled inside the drawer was a single manilla folder; it looked empty except for the paper-clip on the front.

Ororo laughed at herself. _Nothing dangerous_, she determined with a chuckle at her own overactive imagination. Pulling the folder out, the beautiful woman glanced with interest at the words adorning the tag on the side: "Momento Mo're."

The page on top was a colored photograph of a young woman. If her deep violet hair-which was cropped short to her head in choppy locks-was any indication, Ororo assumed she was a mutant. The girl was smiling, but her violet eyes were haunted with the memories of a rough past. Ororo had seen the same eyes many times in the mirror herself.

The girl was neither plain, nor excessively beautiful. Normal, surprisingly enough. Her skin seemed a little paler than most, and she had circles around her eyes, but other than that, she seemed healthy enough. In the picture, the girl was sitting on a low brick wall, one knee pulled up to her chest, the other leg hanging down, her head laying on her hands on her knee, she looking at the mysterious picture-taker. She was wearing a simple long-sleeve shirt, a light gray, a ripped black skirt, and boots. The foliage behind the girl was red and orange: autumn. Funny, the longer she looked at the photograph, Ororo could have sworn that was on the wall in the garden...

But she had never seen the girl before. Ever. Strange.

Behind the photograph was a medical record.

The girl's name was Abby. She was 5'3" and weighed 128 lbs. Her origins, however, where unknown.

Parents: Unknown.

Date of Birth: Unknown.

Age: Unknown.

At the bottom of the paper was a typed section:

The subject was discovered in a soiled hospital gown, unconsicous on Heathers Road by a passerby. Taken to St. Andrew's Hospital, where subject was held for observation. Hospital contacted Professor Xavier when staff realized subject was possibly a mutant. After a brief conference with her, the girl was offered asylum at the Academy. She has terminal amnesia, and cannot remember much of anything beyond waking up in the St. Andrew's hospital. It has been this medical person's opinion that she is healthy and can report to class whenever deemed fit. Henry McCoy.

After the report where several handwritten letters by the professor. As Ororo scanned each one, she realized that they were evaluations of Abby's progress, either in her classes, or in his attempts to help her regain her memories. Each attempt ended in failure, it seemed.

"Though trying as hard as possible, it seems as though she still cannot remember anything beyond the hospital. However, whenever I attempt to enter her mind, a block is thrown up, preventing me from seeing anything. Abby does not seem able to do such a thing, so I am left to wonder if she was under any sort of experimentation. I fear Stryker's involvement."

Ororo shivered as she read the last sentence. Stryker, mutant enemy Number One. He was dead now, but the torture he inflicted ran deep. Just ask Logan.

"Abby is doing well in her classes-all As- but besides the obvious hair and eye color, I have seen no other mutation manifest. Abby claims to know of no other 'abilities' she may be repressing. I am becoming worried for her. Last night I was summoned to her side again. She suffered such a violent night-terror that Henry was forced to tranquilize her. I was unable to discover what triggered the night-terror, or even what it consisted of. When Abby woke-up later, she had no memory of the incident. What happened to this poor girl?"

From what she could gather, Abby seemed to be happy at the Academy. She had passed her classes with flying colors, and seemed easy enough to get along with. She still suffered from night-terrors though. Every other page seemed to recal another incident, another that Abby would claim not the remember.

"I tried to find where Abby may have been born, but there were no records in the New York state, or the United States, for that matter, about a mutant runaway matching Abby's description. Of course, some people do not report mutants; when many mutants have their powers manifest for the first time, they become scared and run away without telling anyone. I have not been able to find out anything else during our sessions, either. The same mental block will appear anytime I try to go into her memories of the past. Abby has now taken a dislike towards Hank when he tried to draw blood from her. She became hysterical and fled.

"I was able to find her on the low wall by the East garden. She was calmer by then, and apologized for running away. When I asked why she ran, she simply said 'I don't like needles.'

"'Do you know why?' I asked.

"'What's to like about needles?' she asked. 'I just don't want to be poked and prodded anymore.'

"'Abby, do you remember something?' I asked her, realizing she had made a slip.

"'I remember needles. Lots of them. Shots all the time. I remember the pain,' she said sadly. 'Can't you make me forget the pain, Professor?"

The longer she read, the sadder she felt. Poor Abby. To suddenly find yourself all alone, without any idea who you were or what made up your past, was a big emotional block. Ororo had watched Logan go through the same thing, and had seen how it had hurt him. She found herself looking at the last handwritten page.

"Today a terrible event occured. A student, a young man by the name of James Henderson, suffered heart failure. Although Hank did everything in his power to save James, it was already to late. No one is really sure why he died, or what caused his heart to simply stop beating.

When I was about to leave the lab and contact James' parents of the accident, Abby came running in. She and James were close, and when she saw his body, she flew into hysterics. I tried to comfort her, but she refused to leave James' side, or even to listen to me. I was about to call Hank for another sedative to relax her when...his heart began beating again on the monitor! Abby was still holding his hand as he gasped for breath. When she looked at me as his vital signs came back strong, I knew. She had known of her mutation all along, but had been hoping to hide it from me...

"I don't know what she is, but her's is no mutation, but something much more dangerous. This is something than cannot be revealed to anyone-Abby must disappear, or else the entire world will be thrown into chaos."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_"Her's was no mutation, but something far more dangerous...she was still holding his hand when his heart began beating again...Abby must disappear..."_

Ororo woke up, tangled in her bed sheets as she had tossed back and forth, the words from the Professor's hidden dossier burned into her mind. What did he mean? What was the girl's "dangerous" powers, and where was she now? And why did she not remember this strange girl?

It was obvious the girl had gone to class, lived at the mansion, but Storm had no memory of her-she would certainly remember a purple-haired girl with the power to-

"Stop it!" Storm snapped to herself, rolling out of the bed and pulling on her robe. What she needed to do was drive the afternoon's events as far from her mind of she could-there was a reason the Professor wanted this girl to disappear anyways.

If she even existed.

That was something that had been plaguing her mind. Why did she not remember this "Abby?" There was only two reasons for that. One, that the girl never existed, she was a strange fantasy made up by the Professor. This seemed pretty fantastical, seeming as how the Professor was a very down to earth man. The second option was the one that truly scared her.

What if the girl _had _existed, but when she needed to "disappear," had he helped made that happen by making everyone in the mansion forget her very existence? He had been the most powerful telepath the world had ever known-erasing everyone's minds of anything to do with Abby would not have been very difficult.

When Storm had come to the mansion, Xavier had made a promise to her, as he had to all his students. He would never use his powers against them, without their consent. No matter if it was for good, or bad, the Professor did not like to manipulate people with his power unless there was no other way to proceed.

Had he, in fact, broken his promise by having everyone have such a specific amnesia? The horrible truth was, she would never truly know.

Unless she found Abby.

As crazy, as impossible, as ridiculous as it sounded, Ororo realized the only way she was going to put this aside was to discover if Abby was real or not.

Dr. Henry McCoy was a mutant who was always busy, always on the run. Being an Ambassador to the United Nations on behalf of the entire mutant community was a great honor, and he carried the position and the accompanying responsibility as gracefully as he could. But, in truth, his true love was being a doctor, a healer, and scientist. In between trips to other countries and Washington, D.C., he always made time to visit the Academy and sometimes work as a doctor, helping the students and teachers as he could.

That night, he was visiting for a few days, but was having trouble sleeping due to jet lag. The change in time zones from Japan made his biological clock extremely confused, so he was still up at 2 in the morning. He was piddling around in the downstairs laboratory, wanting to do something, but not being able to think of anything to actually do. He kept rearranging his equipment, placing his rack of glass tubes on one desk, then moving it to another counter, and so on. It was annoying him to no end, so when the doors slid open to reveal Storm in her pajamas, holding a strange folder, he was glad for the distraction.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" she asked as she shuffled in, her bunny slippers quietly squeaking on the tiled floor.

McCoy gave her an appraising look. "No, but jet lag is much different than a restless mind. Is something on your mind, Ororo?"

"I-I don't know," she confessed, sitting on the chair next to his desk. "This afternoon was...a bit hard to handle." She did not want to come right out and tell Hank what she found. She herself was still unsure she even believed the impossible story in the folder.

"Yes, you were cleaning out Charles' office, today. Several students wanted to help, but I told them that this was something you needed to do alone. I think that, out of all of us, you were the one who repressed her feelings the most, for the sake of the school."

He looked at her sadly, but grinned a little. "You still need to come to terms with the fact that he's not coming back, Ororo."

_What a perfectly morbid segway. _"There's actually something I ran across today, Hank, and I need your help."

"Does it have to do with that?" he motioned to the folder. She nodded.

"Very much so."

She gave Hank the folder and explained the strange disappearing money, the secret drawer and the key in the pen, and the finding of folder. He leafed through the letters and pictures, but was silent as stone. Storm did notice, however, that the more he read, the paler he became, til his face was a nice shade of sky blue.

"This is...is...I don't even know what to call it," he said, closing the folder and tossing it on the desk angrily. "Is impossible a good word? Insane? That's my handwriting, Ororo, but I don't remember writing that initial report! I've never met this girl in my life! What the hell is going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Storm sighed. "So you have no idea who she is, either?"

"Not a damned idea."

Storm was silent for a moment. "There's two possibilities. One, this whole thing is some strange hoax Xavier created, something I can't even begin to fathom, or..."

Hank held up a blue hand. "Don't even say it, Ororo-!"

"...or she's real, was real, and we can't remember her because he made us forget!"

The doctor sighed. "You just had to go and say it, didn't you?"

"C'mon, Hank, can we really just let this one go? This is big, really big!"

"I _know_, I know," he said, slumping in a chair, running a hand through blue hair. "I can't see him making this up, but at the same time...there's no way I can convince you to let this go, can I?"

The glare from Storm was all the answer he needed.

"Fine. So, you want to know if this is real or not? We need to find this girl. I'll see if I can make some headway with that missing money. I suspect the Professor was paying her living expenses wherever she's hiding. If we find the money trail, we can find her, and get some answers."

"Thank you, Hank," she said, getting up to hug him.

"Don't thank me yet. This could lead us down a dark path, Ororo. Do you really want to travel down that path, and possibly take this entire Academy with you?"

"I have to know, Hank. If the Professor lied about her, what else did he hide from us, his own family? I wish I hadn't found that stupid folder, but I can't undo that now."

The blue mutant nodded, then let loose a lop-sided grin. "Good to see you won't be getting cold feet anytime soon," he said, looking at her slippers.

Ororo laughed. "You're just jealous of my fashion taste."

"I'm just jealous of the fact that they don't come in my size."


End file.
